“Dad!” she squeals, delighted, and holds open her arms. “Bring it in!”
I laugh despite the fact I’m stunned she opened the front door by herself. I didn’t think Lauren let her do that. I don’t let her do that. “Hey, Charlie bug! Why are you opening the door by yourself?”
“Because I saw it was you on the security camera,” she explains. “I promise I wouldn’t do it if it wasn’t you. I remember what you told me.”
“Oh. Okay.” I pick her up, which she normally tells me she’s too old for now, but she doesn’t complain this time. “I came to say goodbye in person. I have to go on a business trip.”
“So I don’t get to go to the boat this weekend?” She looks devastated, and the blood pumping through my heart gets thick with guilt.
“Not this weekend. I’m gone until next week,” I explain, and her face falls even more. I suddenly wish I were an accountant or a lawyer like Hunter and could have more control over my schedule. Of course I’d be miserable, but maybe that’s the tradeoff. “I’m here to talk to Mom and see if I can come get you that night, as soon as I’m back, and we can go to the boat then.”
“Mom’s not here,” she says, still pouting.
I try not to show the concern on my face at her comment. “So Rosa is here?’
She shakes her head and wiggles to be put down. As I place her on the ground I’m struggling to stay calm. We had a rule. A verbal agreement that we both approve all sitters, and Rosa is the only one I’ve approved. “So who is home with you, nugget face?”
“My face is not a nugget, Dad!” she complains and crosses her arms.
I nudge her back into the house and step into the front hall with her. My eyes sweep what I can see, the front hall, stairs, the door to the kitchen, and a touch of the family room beyond it. “Who’s with you, Charlie?”
“Cale.”
“You’re here alone? With Cale?”
She senses my fury. She thinks she’s in trouble. She puts her little left thumb up to her mouth, like she’s going to suck it, but she doesn’t. “Mommy just went to do her hair and said she would be back soon.”
“Okay, baby.” I smile at her and run a hand over her head, her curls soft and springy under my hand. “Where is Cale?”
“In the den, but be quiet, Daddy. He’s napping,” she tells me cautiously.
“Are you f—” The obscenity dies on my lips as her innocent eyes star back at me. “Are you up for some ice cream?”
“Really?”
“Really.” I smile. “Let’s go. Mommy will meet us there.”
“Okay!” She heads back out the front door, bouncing toward my car, gleeful and without a care in the world…because she has no idea I am so upset I could explode right now.
I take her to the closest ice cream place, which is actually gelato, but she doesn’t know the difference. She orders a bowl of cookies and cream, and I text her mom as she eats it, explaining to me how she learned in school this week that zebras aren’t born with stripes. My text to Lauren is simple:
I’m at Casa Gelato with our daughter. Meet us. NOW.
She doesn’t respond, but I know she got it. She can sense the fury and also probably knows she doesn’t have a leg to stand on here. By the time Charlie is licking the ice cream bowl, Lauren’s Mercedes is parking next to my Rover.
She gets out of the car, fresh blowout catching the breeze, and saunters over to us casually. She smiles at Charlie. “Hey, Charlie! Did Daddy surprise you with ice cream?”
“Best surprise ever!” Charlie proclaims. “Other than a puppy.”
Oh, God…I ignore that and look at Lauren. “Let’s go to the park across the street for a second.”
“Cool!” Charlie jumps up. Today is such an unexpected treat for her but an unwanted, hate-filled battle for her parents. Welcome to divorce.
We follow her to the crosswalk, probably looking like a cute little urban family as we watch her look both ways and then hit the button and start to cross. As soon as we’re on the other side, Charlie runs straight for the jungle gym, and I turn to Lauren. She holds her manicured hand up to stop me before I can speak.
“You aren’t supposed to pick her up until tonight at six,” Lauren snaps. “You don’t get to break the arrangement to do spot checks on us. And for the record, I was gone forty minutes. Rosa couldn’t come in today and Cale, being the incredible boyfriend he is, volunteered to watch her.”
“Cale was passed out in the den,” I reply through teeth so gritted my jaw already aches. “He probably doesn’t even know we’re gone. She answered the door by herself. And I wasn’t checking up on you. I came to tell you and Charlie that I have a business trip and can’t make it tonight, or any night this week.”
